


Remember

by ArcticMoonlight72



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Jaws of Hakkon DLC, Dragon Age: Inquisition - The Descent DLC, F/M, Fade Dreams, Friendship, Gen, Magic, Mutual Pining, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25742407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticMoonlight72/pseuds/ArcticMoonlight72
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission, and an easy journey back to her Clan to relay the events that happened. But when things take a wrong turn, Caela Lavellan must come to terms with her new responsibilities, and the accompanying weight on her shoulders. No one expected the Conclave to be flattened in a surprise explosion. Following this, secrets need to be uncovered, power amassed, and decisions made. But can she cope with the resulting fallout? It seems like things never go her way, and Caela realizes that Varric was more on the mark than she ever expected. Maybe this is just really shitty luck.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Solas
Kudos: 5





	1. There's a First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a long series, and I'm excited to add more chapters! Let me know what you think in the comments section, this is my first fic so I'll be looking to improve as time goes on!

The first moments after her waking left Caela reeling. The Conclave had been mostly tame, facilitating talks between two groups who had been warring for ages. Of course there was a level of animosity between them, but both the mages and the Templars seemed to come to heel at the words of the Divine.

She remembers her Keeper sending her as a spy, and, being a mage, she blended in easily. Most of those in her Clan were far too old to make such a journey anyways.  
She remembers the debates, then the break in between so both sides could reorganize their points and conditions.

Then the shock of rousing from what felt more like death than sleep, of being held in a damp cell. Her hands were held together, and her weight rested on her legs, which had long since lost feeling. Her body feels sore all over, and her throat cracks from disuse. The bone deep throbbing in her left hand draws her attention next.

Turning her palm upward, Caela is greeted with a bright crackling of green light. The ensuing pain races up her arm, and she recoils.

The door to the room then bursts open, the force of which sends it flying into the adjoining wall. Two women come through its archway, and the first of the group takes to circling her. The guards who surrounded her on all sides straighten. The one with the cowled hood took a more subdued approach, and held back a ways.

The volley of questions made her stomach churn, and Caela fought back the panic rising in her throat.  
“What do you mean everyone is dead?” She had gasped.

“Explain _this_.” The armored stranger had snarled in her face, shoving her left hand down just as fast as she had snatched it up. The flare of green light had illuminated the room, and all of their faces. Caela scrambled for answers, but to her horror, she had none. She could only stutter out a reply.

“I-I can’t!”

The mental block that kept her from remembering the rest filled her with dread. Caela was left to sift through what memories she did have, and those that were now lost to her. But she had no time to dwell on this, as the armored woman had jostled her by the shoulders.

“You’re lying!” She seethed directly into Caela’s face. Caela could only flinch away from the strike she expected to come next.

The hooded stranger takes this chance to put her hand between them, backing up her partner away from Caela.

She gives a pointed look, “We need her Cassandra.”  
The weight of her words stills the room. They both turn to look at her, with what Caela could only guess was a heady mixture of unease and distrust.

Caela takes a deep breath, and raises her head to meet their eyes.  
“So what happens now?” She tries to say in a steady voice, but she is already sure that the women could see her hands shaking in her lap.

The hooded lady rounds on her now. Questions what memory she does have.

“I remember running, things were chasing me. And then.. A woman?”

The response she gets is almost reproachful, and full of disbelief. Cassandra sighs, barely audible even in the small room.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.”

The newly revealed Leliana gives only a slight nod, and disappears through the doorway.  
Cassandra now kneels in front of her, removing the heavy wooden manacles, saying she will show her what really happened. Caela is lifted to her feet, and the rush of blood into her legs is dizzying. As her wrists are secured with rope now, she has little other choice but to follow her captor.

They exit the room, and reach a hallway. From the decorations and statues, Caela knows this must be a Chantry. It is her first time ever being in such a place, and she takes in the new sight.  
The guard who opens the large wooden doors for them blatantly stares at her, eyes filled with a hostile light. Caela knows better than to stare back, and carries on.  
It is not the first time she has received such looks, but her Keeper had always cautioned against even unknowingly retaliating. There is no knowing how a human could perceive some threat from them, and use it as justification for whatever twisted actions they deemed to take against one of the People.

After the darkness of her cell, the light glinting of the snow is near blinding, and Caela lifts a hand to her eyes to adjust. _Why is it so bright?_ Her eyes were now throbbing in tandem with her hand, reminding her of the pain that had yet to fully dissipate. The sound of blades clashing and thunderous booms echo around her.

  
She turns to see what Cassandra is looking at, and she realizes now why the snow seemed so unnaturally illuminated. In the sky, hanging low over the mountains, was a swirling vortex. It churned and crackled, all manner of debris plummeting from it and onto the ground, its crystalline green light shining across the landscape.  
Words could not describe its size and visage. Caela could only gape at the sight, confusion and awe welling inside her, as Cassandra began to speak.

“We call it the Breach. It is a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.” She rattles on, and Caela could barely manage to catch most of the explanation.

Her mind reeling from all the new information, she can barely breathe out the question, “An explosion can do that?” The awe she felt at the sight diminished in a second. A chill ran through her bones as she realized what Cassandra’s words implied. _The Fade! A hole in the sky, connected directly to the Fade. Unbelievable_. If it hadn’t been right in front of her face, Caela didn’t know if she would have believed it. Yet there it was.

Cassandra's ensuing answer is interrupted by a brighter flash of light, as the Breach grows. Caela’s hand reacts to this, bursting in turn and sending her to her knees in pain. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and it feels like tendrils of white hot pain are tugged around her heart. The mark continues to spark and flash.  
She is joined by Cassandra, who informs her that this mark is killing her. They have to do something. Caela is overwhelmed, with everything going on, with all of these events, and barely any time in between their happening..

She tries to steady her breathing, and resolves to fix this. _I know I didn’t do it, but I need to find out who did_. She tells Cassandra as such.

Cassandra seems relieved at her words. Caela finds herself tugged up to her feet again, and only now appreciates how strong this other woman is. Her resolve is unwavering, and Caela thinks this is the first time she has actually looked at her. Not to answer her questions, not to defend her innocence, but as someone who is leading the way in the only way she could. Caela finds herself admiring the one in front of her, and decides to match that resolve she sees. We can do this together.

Cassandra leads her through the town, and they both hear the whispers, see the open aggression pointed at Caela. Without Cassandra here, she is sure the crowd would not have hesitated to tear her apart. The anger palpable, and Cassandra fills in more information for her. The Divine, the leaders of the mage and Templar talks, anyone who attended, now dead.  
They make it to the end of town, and the soldiers open the gate at Cassandra’s barked command.

“We must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the Breach is sealed.” Cassandra pulls out her dagger as she says this, “There will be a trail.. I can promise no more.” With a quick flick of the blade, Caela’s binds fall to the snow. The sound of the battle rages on around them.  
Cassandra takes to the lead again, and Caela trails behind, rubbing the indents on her wrists. The mark on her hand flickers and hums, _it's almost like it's alive_. Caela shivers at the thought.  
“Where are we going?” She lifts her head to gaze at Cassandra, who turns her own head slightly.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach.”  
Yet again, Caela can do little but follow as Cassandra continues on.


	2. Shade, Wraith, Rift

After the gate, the path before them was littered with rubble. Each passing step revealed more carnage, the trail littered with canvas bound bodies and Chantry members scrambling to lend aid. A woman presides over the pile of bodies, counting each one into the record she holds on her arm. Everyone’s face is devoid of emotion, clothes splattered with blood and gore.

The casualties are innumerable, a grotesque reminder that this was only to get worse.

Caela tries to keep a steady mind, but the scene is disturbing, reminding her only of the violence she had seen travelling with her Clan.Before she has long to dwell on memories best left in the past, the mark on her hand swells and crashes. The accompanying flash of magic and visceral pain sends her to her knees. The sensation of snow steadily soaking into her pants is all but drowned out by the waves of radiating agony spreading up her arm.

As quickly as it came, it was over. Caela’s head swims back into focus, and Cassandra is pulling her to her feet again. 

“The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

Grasping tightly to the wrist of her left hand, Caela begins to follow the path again. 

“How did I survive the blast?” She questions. They step out onto the cobblestone foundation of a bridge, as a group of soldiers scurry ahead of them.

Cassandra begins to explain, “They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was behind you. No one knows who she was..”

Her words are cut off by a great reverberating crash, and an intensely bright meteor crashes into the bridge before they can react. 

The stones burst and crumble under their feet, and they begin to fall. Caela tries to cling onto something, but everything is swept away as they tumble onto the frozen river below.

Neither have time to collect their thoughts, as another flaming mass crashes into the riverbank just in front of them. The magic seeps onto the ice, and culminates with a demon forming out of the magic that has pooled.

Cassandra immediately readies her blade, and charges. 

Caela can only stare as a second pool of magic begins to blend together where Cassandra had just stood. Another demon claws its way into existence, and Caela can feel her gasping breaths beginning to catch in her throat. Throwing her head around, looking for a way to defend herself, she spots a cracked crate of supplies and weapons. She dashes over, fumbling through the pile, her magic sparking in her hands when she touches the base of a staff. Caela quickly pulls it from the jumbled mess, and rounds on the demon. 

Using it to channel her magic, Caela unleashes a streak of lightning onto her target, where it easily strikes the demon Cassandra is fighting as well. She can see Cassandra’s target fall, and fade into nothing. Caela summons a fireball and launches it at the Shade in front of her, watching it catch fire. It takes no time for Cassandra to lunge at the other demon, and fell it in a few short swipes of her blade.

Caela feels relief swell in her chest, and she turns to Cassandra to confirm if she is alright, and ready to continue.

Only to be met with the tip of Cassandra’s blade pointed directly at her. Caela freezes and glances at Cassandra’s face, which is pulled taut and steely.

“Drop your weapon. _Now_.” 

Caela immediately straightens, and spreads her hands to her sides.

“Alright. Have it your way.” She breathes, trying to stay calm. _We’ve come so far, I can’t let her trust disappear again._

Cassandra seems to consider this, and pauses. 

“Wait,” she sighs, and sheathes her blade. “ I cannot protect you, and cannot expect you to be defenseless.” 

Caela perks up at this, and smiles. “Thank you, Cassandra.”

There is only a hint of a smile, _or grimace?_ On Cassandra’s face.

“I should remember you agreed to come willingly.”

She gives Caela a few potions, and they continue on.

Navigating the hills and frozen areas of the river, they begin to clear the area of demons. All manner of Shades and Wraiths trail the forests, but the team makes quick work of them.

They eventually reach some stone stairs, and Caela is almost eager to climb them. Her mark is humming and pulsing in her hand, no longer flaring to life and leaving her incapasitated. 

“We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.” Cassandra voiced from behind her, and Caela realized that she had been leading their little group, albeit unconsciously. She glances back to Cassandra, who seems unperturbed by the notion. Caela turns again, and they traverse the steps. 

“Who’s fighting?” 

“You’ll see soon. We must help them.” Cassandra answers simply. Caela nods as she picks up the pace a bit, and they reach the top of the stairs.

The scene in front of her is chaotic, as all things had been so far. She wastes no time in jumping over the stone wall and joining the fray. Bolts of electricity sparkle over the field, tethered from one demon to the next as they all spasm from the contact. Caela can feel a tug in her mark, and the ethereal presence of the rift above them draws her attention. She quickly turns back to the remaining Shade, finishing it off with another well-timed fireball.

Caela jumps when a figure comes rushing to her side. Her left hand is grabbed and pulled from her side, and she spins into the direction she is tugged.

“Quickly, before more come through!” Is the only explanation she is given. Her palm is rotated toward the floating tear in the sky. Her mark is singing at this point, and she can feel its magic take over. The tugging sensation is greater now, as a link is formed between her mark and the rift. The feeling eventually peaks, and she wrenches her hand away as the feeling becomes unbearable, and the rift dispels. As if it was never there in the first place. Caela can feel the mark calm, and her own magic wavers back into stability.

“What did you do?” She mutters, cradling her hand to her chest. The man who had directed her hand tilts his head, and answers calmly. 

“I did nothing. The credit is yours.”

Caela takes a second to study the one in front of her, denoting his ears and staff, but his face was clear of any sign marking him as Dalish. His clothes were simple, and Caela found her eyes drawn the the jawbone necklace he wore. 

“You mean this?’ She gestures to her hand. 

After a brief explanation of his theory on the Breach, and its closure, he faces her again.

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” He nods.

“Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” a voice drawled from behind them. 

The dwarf the voice belonged to sauntered over, and introduced himself as Varric Tethras. He had quite a charming face, and the bright shock of chest hair he showed off only added to his character. The end of that introduction included winking at Cassandra, who’s own face withered in disgust. Caela could barely hold in a peel of laughter at the sight. _Oh she does_ not _like this dwarf!_

“Its nice to meet you, Varric!” Caela could not hold back the amusement in her voice, if Cassandra’s resounding scoff was anything to go by. 

“You may reconsider that stance, in time.” The other man advised, but he also seemed to be enjoying the interaction.

Varric's next reply, which assumed his presence in the continued journey, set Cassandra to outright bickering with him. Caela could only watch on, but she felt that Cassandra’s harsh words held no real threat in them. Varric made good points anyways. 

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Solas spoke from her side. “I am pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’” Varric interjected. 

Caela was surprised. After a great many questions, she learned that Solas is an apostate mage, much like herself, and has immeasurable experience with the Fade and related subjects. 

The group finishes the introductions, and agree to begin the descent into the valley together.

Caela glances behind as they begin to climb over the rubble, and any remnant of the rift is gone. The sky doesn’t even have a scar, no memory of what happened here. She faces forward again, and they leave the scene behind.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The majority of this fic will follow the actual choices i made in-game, along with a couple of scenes I think should have happened. By the end of the game, I really loved most of the characters, and I wanted to explore the friendships they had with my Inquisitor! It might take a while to get there, but I plan on making a couple of my own scenes and interactions! Hopefully they'll stay in character lol


	3. Following the Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is where I will start branching off from the base game! A lot of the choices in game were just not things I could see myself saying, and a lot of the choices were so aggressive :(! I'm gonna start inserting personalized interactions and scenes too, but I'll let you guys know it will be pretty heavy on the Varric/Cass/Solas group because that was my favorite party the whole game! I used Bull, Blackwall, and Dorian a few times, so I'll include them a bit into the party interactions too.

Navigating through the rubble, and following the steep path downward led to another group of demons. Striking one of the Shades with a blast of magic, and Varric's launched volley of arrows, allowed enough cover for Cassandra to rush forward.

Caela was surprised by the cool wash of a barrier smoothing itself over her skin, and she glanced back to see it had been cast from Solas’s own hand.

Resuming the fight, the Wraiths had already fallen, and wilted away into nothing. Caela reasons that the very essence of their being returns to the Fade at this point.

The Shades are defeated in short order, and after ensuring the group is healed, Caela follows the river to the left. The alcove there is littered with more dead, and another gathering of demons. 

Caela is starting to get used to how everyone fights, noting certain behaviors and actions her companions typically take. It allows her to better provide support, and she is particularly pleased when a synchronized strike fells an enemy just a tad faster. 

She is getting better at lacing her lighting through multitudes of enemies, skirting around Cassandra and shocking those who try to creep behind her.

After looting the area, they head back the way they came. Solas’s voice speaks from behind her.

“You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your Clan. Did they send you here?” He inquires. 

“What do you know of the Dalish?” She asks back, wondering why this subject is being broached.

Solas seems amused by her hesitation. “I have traveled many paths in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion.” 

Caela frowns. _Your people?_

“You make it sound like those interactions did not go well, Solas.” 

“The Dalish are more interested in their superstition than sharing knowledge.” He answers smartly, and Caela can feel her mouth pull into a thin line. _This conversation is_ not _going smoothly,_ she thought to herself. She remains quiet. _Maybe his experiences with the Dalish are making him wary of me?_

Varric chuckles awkwardly. 

“Let’s try to get along!” 

But the air is still heavy. Caela tries to push it from her mind as she follows the stairs up to the ruins, just past the fishing houses. 

The mark on her hand pulses slightly, and Caela hisses out a breath as she stretches her fingers out, trying to relieve some of the pressure. 

Cassandra’s sympathetic voice soothes from her side, “I know it is difficult, but we must keep moving.”

“It’s alright, just stings.” Caela gives Cassandra a small smile, but the woman does not seem convinced. The mood in the air is lighter, at least for now.

“So, are you innocent?” Varric begins as they follow more stairs.

“I don’t remember.” Caela speaks lowly, eyes focused on her hand. 

Varric huffs a laugh, “ Should have spun a story.” 

“That is what _you_ would have done.” Cassandra scowls.

Before they have time to bicker, the party reaches the top of the stairs. Another smattering of demons dots the landscape, more spread out than the last few groups. 

Cassandra focuses on the Shades who have skulked closer, and the combined effort of Varric, Solas, and Caela wipe out the Wraiths in no time at all.

“I hope Leliana made it through all this,” Cassandra sighs as she sheathes her weapon. 

Caela hums her affirmation. Varric clips his crossbow to his back and smiles. 

“She’s resourceful, Seeker.” He comforts. Caela squints at the word. _So Cassandra is a Seeker._ She grins. _Maybe I should have been able to tell by her armor._

Solas reminds them that they are almost at the forward camp, and they resume the journey. Another staircase extends to their left, and as they walk upwards, Caela’s hand begins to hum again. The light from her hand glints onto the snow below, and she quickens her pace. Another rift must be nearby. 

They crest the stairs, and Caela’s assumption is correct. 

The rift at the top of the stairs makes a wet rupturing noise, and the demons spew out of the ground from where the magic has gathered. 

Caela immediately sends a bolt of lighting out to the nearest Shade, and it crackles through the crowd of demons as it stuns them. Cassandra attacks another Shade, and Solas and Varric target the Wraiths floating in the background. Luckily, the fight is swift, and Caela turns to the rift that is weakening in the sky.

Lifting her palm to face the rift, the familiar pinched sensation spreads to the very tips of her fingers. The connection forms, and she can feel the tugging in her palm begin to intensify. With one last pull of her arm, the magic snaps back to its source, and the rift is smeared from the sky. 

_I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that feeling._

The guards cheer from their barricade, and the gate is opened for them. 

“We are clear for the moment. Well done.” Solas praises. 

“Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful.” Varric says with a hint of bewilderment. 

Caela glances at her hand again, and curls her fingers over the mark. She shivers as it pulses, but it seems calmed for now.

“I just hope it closes the big one,” she jokes. “I think I’m getting better at using it.”

Cassandra leads them through the gate now, and the group makes their way into the forward camp.


	4. If I Have to go up One More Staircase...

The forward camp is crowded on both sides with supplies, weapons, and canvas bound bodies. Caela spots at least 20 haphazardly spread about the bridge. The nip of cold here is lessened only by the lit braziers dotted about, each with a few chilly soldiers huddled around them.

Leliana is at a table, standing next to an increasingly irate man. He whirls to face the group as they approach.

Before Caela can say anything, the man demands her arrest and execution.  _ Seems a little self-important for a Grand Chancellor,  _ she thinks. _ Jumping so quickly to execution. _

Cassandra bristles at her side, and scoffs at the order. 

“Order me? You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!” She hisses, tilting her head up with authority. 

Roderick sputters and glares, “And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry.” 

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.” Leliana inserts between them.

The Chancellor waves his hands resignedly, spouting off about electing a new Divine. Caela almost wants to roll her eyes.  _ This is definitely not the time for this. _

“Isn’t closing the Breach a more pressing issue?” She says pointedly, gesturing to the tear in the sky. 

The Chancellor snarls at the mere thought, and it sets Cassandra and Leliana upon him like hyenas. They squabble for a moment, weighing their options of approach to the Breach.

The very same Breach that alights with its strange magic again, its echoes blowing out across the landscape as its churning width grows larger. Caela’s hand flickers and creaks with the movement, and she is relieved that this outburst is more tame than the last few had been. 

Cassandra considers this, and turns to her with a passing hint of consideration gracing her features.

“How do you think we should proceed?” She inquires simply, as if it is the easiest question in the world. 

Caela knows her own look of surprise is plain on her face. 

“You would ask me what I think?”

“You have the mark,” Solas reminds her.

“And you must be kept alive. We cannot decide on our own, in any case.” Cassandra murmurs. 

Caela weighs her options, but she does not have the luxury of time in this place.    
“I say we charge. There is no time to waste.” She levels her gaze on the three of them. Cassandra issues the order to Leliana, who nods and takes off toward the end of the bridge. 

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker.” The Chancellor mutters as he stalks off, but Cassandra seems unperturbed by the words, and stalks off to join Leliana. 

Caela is glad to see her head still held high. The words of a man who refuses to help, and only hinders, are not to be heeded. 

The trek through the snow leads them to another camp, set just outside of a ruined wall. The snow, as deep as it had been, has seeped into the very top of her boots, but Caela must push the discomfort from her mind. She was certain that Solas would be the most uncomfortable of the group, once the tight wrappings on his own feet soaked through. At least Varric’s chest hair keeps him warm, and the dwarf laughs in a deep baritone as Caela tells him so.

At the bottom of the staircase they must follow, the party can only watch as a lone soldier is blasted away at the top of them. By the way his body flies through the air, Caela knows him to be dead. The regret is a deep pang in her chest,  _ if I had just been faster,  _ but she has no time to dwell. 

_ If the Breach is not closed, it will be more than one soldier. _

She races past the last step, and onto the bone littered, smoking ground. A group of fighters is facing off with more Shades, and she can see a luminescent rift floating just above them. Her lighting flashes between the gathered demons, and she uses her next spell to immolate the area underneath their twitching legs.

As the Shades are defeated, the rift gives a globular pulse, and Caela can feel the magic ripping into her palm, almost itching for the connection that is soon to come. The magic in her hand is alight with something reminiscent of excitement.

As distracted as she is by the sensation, she does not realize that the lesser Terrors that have spawned have taken to opening some sort of portal underneath her. The upright motion of its body sends her careening into the dust that litters the ground, and she can feel her lungs burning with the shocked inhale she takes. She rolls to her feet, and the jolting burst from the Terror weakens her movements. She struggles to a position just outside of its reach, hoping its alarmingly long arms do not swipe her spine in half.

Luckily, Cassandra barrels into the two at this moment, and an unidentified man finishes the movement with a strike of his own blade. Solas and Varric complete a well timed shot at one of the Terrors, and the shriek it releases as it is swept into the rift, is something Caela will not soon forget. She immolates the remaining demon, and when Cassandra and the armed man perform a synchronized attack, it too is wiped from existence. 

“Quickly!” Cassandra cries, and Caela rushes just underneath the rift. It closes, much like the others had, but Caela can feel exhaustion pulling at her muscles after it is done.  _ Its beginning to take its toll,  _ she thinks.

Her companions draw up closer to her, and Caela takes a small comfort in the fact that no one seems to badly hurt. Their clothes are dripping with blood and pus, but the relieved looks on their faces, and the faces of the soldiers, put her heart at ease. She will take her victories where she can.

“Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.” Solas commends, his staff now strapped to his back. 

“I’ve been practicing my technique,” Caela laughs, and she can see that at least Varric is amused.

“You managed to close the rift? Well done.” A voice echoes from behind them. The man who had joined their fight is animatedly talking to Cassandra, who has just finished flicking the smeared debris off her sword. 

“Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner’s doing.” Cassandra replies. Caela can feel her face fall at the word, the reminder, but quickly smooths her face as best she can when the Commander turns to her.  _ I seem to have forgotten my place,  _ she mulls. She almost feels embarrassed. 

“Is it?” He questions. “I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”

“I hope so too.” Caela answers softly. The man takes a moment to study her.

“We’ll see soon enough, won’t we.” He sighs. “The way is clear, Leliana will meet you there.”

He and Cassandra exchange a few more words, but Caela has stopped listening at this point.  _ There is not even a moment to think in this place _ , she rails in the confines of her own mind. The Commander helps one of his injured hobble away, and Caela glances back to the sky.

The Breach is only brighter now, from how much closer they were. Her hand pulses in tandem with the ache just behind her eyes, and Caela almost wants to sag her shoulders. But Cassandra is already picking over a trail, and Caela lets her feet pull her forward. Solas and Varric bring up the rear of their group, and they traverse around the bones as best as they can. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of synonyms you guys :( I gotta try a little harder to make this spicy


	5. There's the Big One

The bones that were strewn across the area were innumerable. Skulls were scattered about, and the ash and dust covered everything in a thick layer. The most horrifying part, though, were the still flaming corpses standing upright among the wreckage, their faces contorted in terror and panic. The smell of burning flesh filled the area, and Caela could feel her stomach twist.

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes.” Solas spoke from her side. Caela’s mouth dropped at the admission. _I was just here,_ she thought. _The creation of the Breach had enough power to level the area._

“What’s left of it.” Varric groused, skirting around a pile of bones. 

“This is where you stepped out of the Fade, and our soldiers found you. They say a woman was behind you, no one knows who she was.” Cassandra echoes her earlier statement. 

Caela stays silent, a frown tightening her features. The group ducks under the brick archways that lay ahead of them ,and follow the crumbling hallway. Caela tries to ignore the corpses littered here, but the empty sockets in their skulls are boring holes into her back as she walks away. They stop at an area overlooking the land under the Breach, only to find it distorted and jagged.

“The Breach _is_ a long way up,” Varric begins, only for the sounds of rushed footsteps to interrupt him. Leliana is here, with a group of soldiers trailing behind her. Cassandra directs her to spread her men around the temple, and they are quick to do so.

“This is your chance to end this,” Cassandra addresses her. “ Are you ready?”

Caela swallows against the knot in her throat. “I’m ready.” 

“This rift is the first, and it is the key.” Solas shakes his head. “Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.” 

Caela nods at their advice, and steps around some rubble to begin their descent.

The winding ground around the temple is interrupted by great spires of rock and crumbling outcroppings of broken foundation. The group, joined now by Leliana, weaves through the obstacles, and Caela jumps when she hears the voice that echoes through the area. 

Its deep, raspy timbre causes her skin to pebble into gooseflesh, and she gasps softly. Her heartbeat speeds up until it feels like one wrong move will send it pounding out of her chest.

“Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.”

The unconscious reaction of her body makes her nervous, and her companions are also unnerved by the voice that has come out of nowhere. It has no discernable source. 

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra wonders, her voice pinched and low.

“At a guess, the person who created the Breach.” Solas pointed out helpfully. The group falls into an uneasy silence as they continue.

The next sloping turn is awash with an eerie red glow, and at its source, a glowing crystal striking out of the ground. Varric’s breath hitches at the sight.

“You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.” He calls out to Cassandra. Caela files away the information for a later discussion. She has never seen anything like this, but her Clan had yet to travel out of the Free Marches for much. _Is it a common occurrence in Ferelden?_ She wonders to herself. She had seen the lyrium that templars take, but this was new.

“I see it, Varric.” Cassandra answers sharply. 

“But what's it _doing_ here?” Varric says tartly.

_Maybe it_ isn’t _common._ Caela corrects. They proceed in silence, until another echo rings across the plaza. A woman’s voice cries out for help, and Cassandra visibly startles. 

“That is Divine Justinia’s voice!” She gasps. Caela can feel her alarm building as they drop down another level, and leap onto the ground. 

As they approach the rift, Caela’s hand begins to flash again. The pain she expects never comes, but more voices fill the silence around them. The group can only look on as those voices begin to take a ghostly realistic form. The scene plays out; the Divine held against her will by some shadowed presence, and Caela interrupts the encounter when she bursts through the door. 

_Why can’t I remember doing that?_

As the figures disappear, Cassandra turns to her. 

“You were there!” She accuses, “Who was it? What happened?” Her voice edges on panicked, and Caela can only hold her hands up in surrender.

“I don’t remember any of that!” 

“Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” Solas says, closing the distance between them. He details the state of the rift, and that they must first open it, and close it properly. 

Cassandra readies Leliana’s soldiers, and the party draws their weapons. Caela stares at the rift, hesitantly lifting her palm to it. The mark seems to respond to her will, to open rather than close. Caela focuses on that goal as the connection is formed, the tugging sensation she is used to gone, replaced with an almost probing sense. She can feel her magic flare as she feels over the rift, brows furrowing in concentration. She can feel the mark radiating in her hand, and she pulls her arm back, feeling the magic peel away from the rift, as if stripping it of a layer, allowing a tear to form in it. The rift flows toward the new weakness, and bursts open. 

The connection ends, and the rift grows and pulses, and two clawed hands scrape at its precipice. The Pride demon falls to the ground, roaring as it rises to its feet, energy crackling in the air. 

Joined by Leliana’s archers, the group launches attacks on the demon at the same time. It lashes out with its arms, occasionally blasting great balls of lighting out of its hands. It forms a barrier on itself as it cackles, and Cassandra calls out to Caela.

“Quickly! Disrupt the rift!”

Caela thrusts her hand out, and uses the mark to tear at the rifts barriers, flaying it open. The rift bursts again, its magic flowing out of itself and into the area around it. Two Shade demons spawn out of the collected energy gathered below it, and slide toward Caela. A bolt whizzes past her ear, and hits the closest one directly between its eyes, and it screeches as it tumbles backward. Caela breathes her thanks to Varric, and immolates the two, weaving her lighting between them in the next second. The Shades melt and disperse into the rift, and Caela turns back to the Pride demon. 

The team eventually wears the demon down, repeatedly stripping it of its shield, and Cassandra is finally able to lay the final blow. The soldiers cheer as its essence returns to the Fade, and Caela can feel a smile creep onto her face. The mood is infectious, but they have little time to celebrate.

She turns to the rift, and lifts her palm to it with no hesitation. _I can do this!_

Emboldened as she is, the link is instantaneous. But Caela can feel her mood rapidly shifting as her palm begins to heat up. Above her, the rift swirls and recoils, its magic fluctuating at an alarming rate. Caela can hardly breath as the mark begins to sear her palm, and she can feel it pulling at the edges of the rift, trying to force it closed. Everything is spinning and hazy, and Caela’s vision is hyper focused on the strand of energy between her and the Breach. Her arm begins to scream in pain as the connection begins to come to a head, and her body is awash with a cold sweat.

_Am I going to get pulled in too?_ Is the only thought she can muster, before the rift ruptures the connection. The force throws her backwards, careening into the rubble behind her, and the last thing she sees is the Breach flaring above her. Her eyes slip closed against her will, and she lets the exhaustion take her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took forever >:( I've been trying to support my boyfriend's budding interest in star gazing, and taking pictures of stars, but thats a lot of hours outside instead of on my desktop! I'l be working on the next chapter today too, hopefully I can post before tonight!


	6. Introductions (and re-introductions)

The first feeling that greets her senses is that of the sheets she lies upon. Caela is comfortable and still, relishing in the feeling of laying on a bed. 

But the memories begin to rush back to her, and she jolts up into a sitting position. She is equally startled as the woman in front of her, who Caela assumes had just walked in. The wooden box in the woman’s hands falls to the ground, and the resounding clatter makes them both jump again.

She is elven, and bare faced, and all stuttered apologies and timid movements. Caela does not know how to respond to the treatment, and is bewildered when the woman falls to her knees, scraping and simpering. It makes her sick to see it, and Caela doesn’t understand what the woman has to be afraid of.

Caela learns that she has been asleep for three days, and that the Breach had been silent since their encounter with it. Before she can get any more information out of the woman, she relays Cassandra’s message, and hastily exits the building. Caela is left sitting in the bed, more confused after the encounter than she had been before it. 

Caela scoots to the edge of the bed, and takes a moment to inspect herself. The mark on her hand had indeed stopped growing, but its branching reaches still took up most of her palm. She ran her fingers over it, and the mark responds in turn, humming softly, its magic thrumming, but just barely. It seems they are both drained. The skin is tender around its edges, and the mark itself is luminescent and ethereal, as if it is more Fade than flesh. Caela shivers, and stands up.

Her body is sore, but mostly from laying down for so long. The ache in her arm is gone, and her head feels clear and healed. 

She inspects the room, and finds some elfroot in the box the woman dropped, and a note on the desk. She leaves the box of herbs next to the notes, and changes into some simple furs and leathers that lay in a clothing chest on the floor. 

The air here is cool and crisp, _and I have always loved the cold,_ she smiles. If she didn’t have to worry about the Breach, this would have been a perfect day to hunt with her Clan. The pang of loneliness swells in her heart, and Caela makes a mental note to send word to them. _They must be so worried,_ she frets, twisting at the door handle to leave.

Only to be greeted by a dozen stares. The people of this place, “Haven” the servant from earlier had said, openly studied her now. Most were looks of hope and awe, but others regarded her with more unease.

Caela paused for only a second, and began to weave herself down the path and around the groups of people huddled around that same path. The sun is higher in the sky than she expected, and it must be quite late in the morning. 

The mutters of people talking were mostly positive, but the title they used for her, whether in greeting or in blessing, worried her. To be a Herald was one thing, but Andraste? Unheard of for a Dalish elf, especially when their faces were marked with the _vallaslin._ Caela’s own face bore the mark of Ghilan’nain, and she remembers the Keeper bestowing the tattoo on her. And she had done it with honor, celebrated in the Clan. 

Her head so jumbled with these mixed feelings, she had not realized that she had already entered the Chantry, and now stood in front of the door to the meeting room. The angered voices of Cassandra and the rat Chancellor nearly shook the door, and Caela paused in her motion to knock. _What a rude man._

Caela decides to just open the door. The jarring sound of it screeching open clearly startles the Chancellor, and Caela has to hold back the urge to grin. 

His face contorts in rage. "Chain her!” He barks to the guards, “I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

“Disregard that, and leave us.” Cassandra issues the order smoothly, and the guard bow their heads and acquiesce immediately. The Chancellor is left in all of his spluttering glory, and Cassandra reminds him that the Breach is stable. 

Caela crosses her arms. “I did all that I could to close the Breach. I nearly died for it.”

“Yet you live. A convenient result, as far as you’re concerned.” 

Caela bristles at his tone, but Cassandra’s sarcastic response is faster than her own comeback. 

Leliana details the situation, and Roderick seems stricken at the thought that _he_ could be a suspect. Cassandra proudly announces her belief that it was providence that brought Caela to them. But that providence came from the Maker.

Caela internally balks at the notion, and widens her eyes at Cassandra. 

“You think _I_ was chosen? A Dalish elf, sent by your Maker?” 

Cassandra seems pleased nonetheless. “Humans are not the only ones with an interest in the fate of the world.”

 _That’s not the real point though. When has your Maker ever been interested in our fate?_ Caela can only watch as Cassandra slams a book upon the table. A writ from the Divine, to form the Inquisition. Her words ring out into the room with a clarity and assurance that Caela can’t help but admire. 

“We will close the Breach, find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval.” She finishes, her back straight and proud. The Chancellor glances between all of them,and when he finds them unified in this cause, he has little other choice but to leave.

As the door closes behind him, Leliana sighs. They have no support in this, but it must be done. 

“We must act now, with you at our side.” She murmurs to Caela. Her eyes are alight with a passionate fire, and Caela can only smile at the sight. 

“I want to help,” Caela says, “Luckily, this thing on my hand makes me quite the helper.” She jokes. Cassandra’s lips upturn at the corners, and she reaches her hand out to shake. Caela happily places her hand upon Cassandra’s, and the deal is struck.

The group disperses, and the town is alight with action. Caela takes a moment to gather her thoughts in the cabin she has been given. Outside her door, she can hear the sounds of ravens cawing, and soldiers beginning their drills.

She chooses to sit on the floor next to her bed, and tries to push all of the sound away from her mind. Caela stills as she meditates, and she uses her magic to inspect the energy in her palm. It feels like she can only wrap her own will _around_ it. The force in her hand is not melded with her own, and Caela can only hope that the foreign presence will not have any negative impact on her own abilities. 

A knock on the door startles her out of her mindful state, and Caela sighs. A passing servant lets her know that Cassandra wishes her to meet at the front of the Chantry. Caela follows the path there again, and can see Cassandra and Leliana speaking with two strangers. The man turns around at her approach, and she is surprised to see the Commander from the front lines in front of her. He tilts his head in greeting, which she returns, and joins Cassandra at her side. The group finishes their conversation and begin to head into the Chantry, and Caela notices the new banners hanging about, and the order nailed to the door. 

Cassandra walks beside Caela, a little ways behind the other three. Caela glaces at her hands as it gives a half hearted hum, and pitters out again.

“Does it bother you?” Cassandra asks. 

“It's stopped spreading,” Caela smiles brightly, “And it doesn’t hurt.” 

Cassandra seems pleased as well, “We take our victories where we can.”

She mentions now that Solas believes they can close the Breach with a second attempt, provided the mark has more power.

“It sounds like you have something in mind.” Caela says as they continue into the meeting room. 

“We do,” Cassandra laughs.

The room now has a map of Thedas taking up much of the table, and the other three people glance from it when Cassandra and Caela enter the room. _Now it's a war room,_ Caela thinks as she glances to Cassandra. 

“You met Commander Cullen before, he is the leader of the Inquisitions forces.” Cassandra gestures to the man. The Commander gives a good natured smile, and turns to Caela. His hair is a soft blond color, and, if anyone had asked her, Caela could admit that he was extremely handsome. 

“It was only for a moment on the field, I am pleased you survived.” He says softly, but Caela notices that his hands lay on the sword hilted at his side. He notices her pointed look, and removes the hand from his sword, instead using one to cup the back of his neck bashfully.

 _Perhaps a nervous tick?_ Caela wonders. Nevertheless, he does not seem to be clinging to his sword because of any trepidation with her.

The next woman is dressed all in gold and wonderful silk, and has an air of excellence about her. 

“This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat.” Cassandra supplies helpfully. 

“ _Andaran Atish’an_.” She says with a practiced smoothness, and Caela brightens at the greeting.

“You speak elven?” She says excitedly, hands clasped in front of her.

“You’ve just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid.” She punctuates the sentence with a brush of her quill.

Caela gives a light laugh, “Thank you for learning even a little of it; even the Dalish only know so much of the language.” Josephine nods her head slightly in response, and Cassandra continues. 

“And of course you know sister Leliana.” 

“My position here involves a degree of-” Leliana begins.

“She is our spymaster.” Cassandra finishes proudly. Leliana scoffs in response.

“Tactfully put, Cassandra.”

Caela smiles at the exchange. _At least I am surrounded by good people._

“It is a pleasure to meet you all. I am Caela Lavellan, First of my Clan, and I am willing to help however I can.” She meets their eyes individually, and they all nod their agreement. 

The next discussion broaches the subject of approaching the rebel mages for help, or the Templar order. Leliana is a staunch supporter of choosing the mages, while Cullen insists that the Templars could be more useful. Josephine reels them all in with a reminder of the facts.

“Neither group will even speak with us right now. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, and you, specifically." She gestures to Caela as she says this.

“That didn’t take long.” She murmurs.

Cullen barks a laugh. “Shouldn't they be busy over arguing over who’s going to become the next Divine?”

“Some are calling you, a Dalish elf, the Herald of Andraste. This frightens the Chantry.” Josephine points out. “The remaining Clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.” 

“Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt.” Cassandra adds in.

Josephine huffs. “It limits our options. Approaching either group is off of the table for now.”

“They aren’t worried about the Breach? What’s one Dalish elf in comparison?” Caela questions.

“They know it's a threat,” Cullen begins, “They just don’t think we can stop it.”

“The Chantry is telling everyone that you will make it worse. You being lauded as the Herald of _Andraste_ could cause strife among all involved.” Josephine says, her voice taking on an air of weariness. _She must be shouldering a lot right now,_ Caela sympathizes. 

Leliana uses this pause as a chance to speak up. She lets Caela know that a Chantry Cleric called Mother Giselle is requesting her presence. Caela agrees to speak with her, and Leliana directs her to the Hinterlands on the map. 

It is not too far from Haven, and as Caela studies the map, Cullen points at a few key areas.

“Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence while you're there.”

Josephine seconds the notion, and Cassandra suggests finding more options among themselves as well.

Before the meeting adjourns, Caela turns to the advisors.

“Is there any way to send word to my Clan of my safety?” She breathes, “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” Josephine agrees to send a few diplomats, and provide some supplies for her Clan, once they arrive. 

“Thank you, truly.” Caela says, and Josephine smiles at her in return.

The meeting now ended, Caela makes her way out of the War Room. Before leaving, Cassandra asks when she would like to leave for the Hinterlands. Caela decides to meet before dawn, at the front gates, and Cassandra agrees with her, and bids her goodnight. The Chantry is quiet, lit with soft, flickering candlelight, and Caela takes a moment to center herself as she walks the length of its hall. 

She opens the doors, and steps out onto the snow. The sun is lower now, and there must only be about two hours of light left. Caela decides to explore a bit, and stretch out her legs. 

As she is passing the central area of the town, she spots Varric warming himself by a fire.

“Varric!” She calls as she makes a beeline for him, and he grins at her approach.

Caela takes a deep breath before she begins, “Varric I am only now realizing that I never properly introduced myself to you when we met,” she says in a rush. “Could I try again?”

Varric laughs warmly at her, “No worries kid, it was a busy day. Let’s start over, shall we?”

Caela smiles and she introduces herself, and they shake hands. She decides to sit with him at the fire, and they talk for about an hour about various things. His crossbow is named Bianca, and he has many tales to tell. Caela makes a mental note to look into the red lyrium he has mentioned, _I should probably start carrying a journal,_ she muses.

“I’m impressed, Varric! So you write books and manage businesses?” She asks.

“That I do. Not so spectacular after years of doing it, but it gets me by.” He says humbly, but Caela knows that her amazement at his feats has made him happy. She stands up and stretches, and notices that time has passed a lot more quickly after such a deep conversation with him.

“It seems like it's getting late, so I’ll leave you to it, Varric.” Caela remarks, and turns to face him before she goes. “I’m going into the Hinterlands tomorrow to make contact with a Chantry cleric, would you mind coming with me?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Varric chuckles. They make plans to meet by the front gate a few hours before dawn, and Caela waves her goodbyes as she makes her way to the other side of camp. The tavern is lively, _as all taverns are_ , she supposes. She exchanges a few of her coins for a roll and some cheese, and exits the tavern to continue her walk. 

The apothecary is filled with the scents of herbs, and Adan is quite a brusque man. Caela thanks him for any part he played in keeping her stable during the three days she was asleep, and he seems surprised by her appreciation. _He hasn’t been thanked a lot, apparently._

She tinkers with the brewing station for a bit, using a bit of spare elfroot to upgrade the potion recipe she had already. She finishes her small meal after that, and exits the building after saying goodnight to Adan.

She is surprised, however, to see Solas emerging from the cabin to her left. He meets her eyes, and she pads through the snow to reach him.

“Solas, how are you?” She greets. “I was hoping for a chance to introduce myself, if I could? I realize now that I did not do so when we first met.”

Solas nods at her, and she does so. Caela feels better now, albeit a little embarrassed to have skipped such an integral step. First impressions were not her strong suit.

Solas is now leaning on the stone wall just outside of the cabin. The sun is beginning to set, and the chill in the air has just started to deepen. He glances at her when she crosses her arms to conserve her warmth, and begins to speak.

“The chosen of Andraste. A blessed hero sent to save us all.” His tone is even, but Caela wonders if there is any sarcasm there. Word of her new title must have spread fast.

“Sounds too good to be true.” She murmurs, and he graces her with a slight smile. The conversation continues smoothly, and Caela cannot hold back her enthusiasm as she questions him about the Fade. Solas seems all too happy to tell her, and they discuss it in depth. Caela skirts around the subject of the Dalish, since Solas’s whole demeanor changes at the mere mention. _We can discuss it at another time, once I know him better._

Solas announces his plan to stay, at least until the Breach is closed.

"Was that in doubt?" Caela finds herself saying in response to his tone. He rounds on her now, and his head tilts slightly as he delivers his answer. 

"I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces, and, unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution." 

"You came here to help, Solas," Caela says softly. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"How would you stop them?" 

"However I had to." Caela finds her brows furrowing, _how long has he felt like this?_

Solas is quiet for a moment, studying her face, before his face softens into a slight smile. 

"Thank you." He murmurs, and Caela can feel her face glow at the way his voice has warmed. Solas changes the subject to that of the mages and Templars, and they discuss a few theoretical ways that the Breach might be sealed. 

The conversation lulls until it gets to a good stopping point, and Caela readies herself to leave.

“I will be going to the Hinterlands tomorrow with Cassandra and Varric, would you be able to come as well?” She asks, her hands nervously toying with her mark. 

“I will come. It will be good to learn more about your mark, and I am sure there are many rifts littered about the Hinterlands.” He responds. Caela tells him of the meeting time, and he sends her off with a simple goodnight. 

Caela walks past the tavern, which is still as busy as it was before, and past the campsite Varric was at, and sees that he must have retired to his tent.

Her own cabin is dark, and as she enters, she summons a small orb of mage light to guide her. She lights the single candle sitting upright at the desk, and rifles through the contents of it.

With luck, she is able to find a small, leather bound notebook, and a smattering of charcoal nibs.

Caela spends the next few minutes jotting down notes about the day, her red lyrium lead, and the key places Cullen wanted her to visit in the Hinterlands. 

There is not a lot of supplies in the cabin, but she finds a simple cloth backpack folded under the bed, and fills it with her journal, and the herbs she had saved from earlier that day. _Maybe I’ll wake up a little earlier to gather more supplies? Or will we get those when we reach the Hinterlands?_ She muses, _maybe just a snack for the journey there?_

Caela shakes her heads as she changes into the warm pajamas laid out on the bed for her. Best just to sleep now, and worry about it in the morning. She scoots to the center of the bed, and wraps herself in the blanket. Her comfort is disturbed by the candlelight flickering about the desk, and she sighs. Instead of getting up, though, Caela just wills a bit of wind to blow it out. The cabin is dark now, apart from the moonlight peeking softly through the window. 

Caela snuggles into her covers, and relaxes until sleep finds her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah this is the longest chapter so far I think! I just kept typin


	7. The Crossroads

Waking up early was second nature to Caela now. Travel was best done well before the sun rose. Another benefit of that was no one would willingly be up at such a time, unless they were a servant. It made any journey through human villages easier, when she traveled with her Clan at least. 

As soon as her eyes opened, Caela sat up in her bed. Her dreams had been wild, and hard to keep track of. More of a flurry of images than anything else. 

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, and stood from the bed. The air was cool and quiet on her skin, and the barest hint of moonlight illuminated her way. She estimated that she had a half hour to meet with everyone else. Caela lit the candle on the desk with a small flame at the tip of her finger, and stretched as she turned toward the washbasin next to her. 

She poured water from the jug into the larger bowl, and used the chilled water on her face and eyes to fully wake up. The icy touch did its job, and she felt refreshed now as well. Caela cupped the sides of the metal basin, and gathered her magic in her palms to lightly heat the metal. Her left hand gave a slight twitch as her magic slid past the mark clinging to her skin, the forces glancing off each other like oil and water.

The basin now steaming slightly, she used the washcloth laying next to it to wipe down her body. Caela left her old pajamas on the bed, and changed into clean underclothes. She moved to the clothing chest next to the bed, and found some armor there, a unique piece made of fur and leather. 

She tossed the set onto the bed, and after some deliberation, added an undershirt, leggings, and socks to the pile. Caela stood again and began to untie her hair.

She had tossed it into a simple bun when this had all happened, but as her hair fell to her back, she noticed the damage to it. Her hair was clean, but riddled with burnt pieces and damaged patches. _I am glad that they did not cut it for me while I was asleep._

It didn’t take long to locate a pair of shears in the desk, and Caela carefully snipped the damaged pieces off of her remaining hair. After evening it out, it at least still fell to her collarbone, rather than to her lower back. 

She dipped it into the washbasin, and did her best to clean out any straggling pieces. The small vial of soap on the tray next to it smelled of elfroot and some other herb she couldn’t identify. It felt luxurious on her scalp after not being able to cleanse it in so long.

Dabbing at it with another washcloth wouldn’t dry it in time, so Caela gathered her energy in her palms again, and weaved her fingers through her brown tresses to dry it quicker. She chuckled at the memory of her younger self, nearly lighting herself on fire with the same trick. She left her hair just slightly damp, and continued to get ready. 

Caela made her way over to the bed, and dressed herself in the shirt and leggings, before pulling the armor set over it. The fur was snug and durable, and Caela was grateful for it. The boots tugged easily over her feet, and she had to admit the ensemble was very charming. _I’ll have to buy slippers though,_ she thought. The gloves went on with a similar ease, and the material did little to bother the tender skin on her left palm.

Now dressed and ready, she grabs her pack and slings it over her shoulders, and it settles easily on her lower back. She swipes her hair up until it is nestled onto the top of her head, and turns to grab her weapon. The staff she had used before attempting to seal the Breach had been replaced by one with a scythe at the top, and Caela was pleased to find it thrumming with the fiery aspect she enjoyed in staves. 

She blew out the candle on the desk, and opened the door that led outside. Caela closed it behind her with a soft click, and she took a moment to enjoy the first breath of fresh air. The moon cast its soft glow on the snow, and the night sky was only marred by the Breach that hung stagnant in the air. 

Caela walked along the path, and traversed the steps leading down to the front gate. The sleepy guards opened it for her with nothing more than a yawn, and she stepped onto the road in front of it. Cassandra already stood next to the stables, and she waved her hand when she saw Caela’s approach.

“They are preparing the horses for us. With luck, we will make it to the Hinterlands by midday.” Cassandra says softly, her gaze lingering on the sky. Caela nodded in acknowledgment, and glanced over at the frozen lake just beyond the dock. 

It was almost eerily quiet, but the sound of the gate opening behind them broke that silence. Solas now made his way to the group, with Varric following a little ways behind him. The group swapped their good mornings, and a stable hand brought out the horses for them.

The saddlebags seemed to be filled with supplies, and Caela sighs in relief at the sight. The horses are all much the same, but Caela could tell they were more accustomed to field work than travel. 

As soon as they were all ready, the party began their journey, with Cassandra leading. Caela’s mount, while skittish at first, seemed content now to follow the horse in front of her. _I was much the same,_ she giggles at the thought. _At least I had Cassandra to lead the way._

“You’re quite chipper on this early morning,” Varric yawns from behind her. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to wake up before the sun.”

“Even if I wanted to sleep in, I wouldn’t be able to.” Caela laughs.

They continue in amicable silence, and the sun slowly begins to rise in front of them. The path they are on is relatively smooth, with only a few instances of it narrowing. Unluckily for Caela, the trail narrows right next to some steep declining cliffs, and her stomach falls at the sight. She averts her eyes to the mountainside on her left, and tries to ignore the height they are traveling at. They stop a few times to rest the horses and stretch, only to resume the journey.

After a couple of hours, the path begins a steady descent. Cassandra’s map says they are just outside of the Hinterlands area, and should be there in another half hour. Caela is happy to see that her prediction was right, and it was just about midday.

They eventually make it down into the basin. The ground is scorched in patches, and ambient magic coats the area in a sickly film. Caela does her best to dispel it, but it would take a lot more than a passing effort to clear the land of it.

The camp that has been set up by the Inquisitions scouts sits just above the Crossroads, and Caela can only see more flaring magic and unattended fires throughout the area. One of the scouts takes their horses to a shaded area, and a dwarven woman makes her way to them.

Scout Harding immediately greets her as the Herald, and thanks her for what she did at the Breach. Varric tries to make a joke about her name, but he stops himself, and Cassandra makes another disgusted noise at the attempt. Caela’s brow furrows, but she can’t figure out how he was going to finish his sentence.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Scout Harding.” She says instead. She is then filled in on the situation. No contact with the horsemaster, and Mother Giselle is located at the Crossroads just underneath them. It also sounds like Corporal Vale will need some assistance with protecting the refugees. She also hands them some potions, which Caela stores in her pack.

Caela thanks her, and sets off down the rocky incline. The path is lined with bodies, but Caela can’t slow her steps, not when she hears fighting happening just beyond the boulders in front of her. 

“Inquisition forces! They’re trying to protect the refugees!” Cassandra points out, and Caela flips her staff into her hands, and they join the fray.

Solas casts a barrier onto them, and Cassandra charges ahead and knocks a stray Templar off balance. Caela focuses her magic into herself, all ice cold chill and movement, and appears behind that same Templar in the next second. She immolates him as he stands, and his cry of pain is silenced by Cassandra’s next strike. Cassandra tries to reason with the rest of the enemies around them, but the attack presses on, and Caela twists her staff, drawing some of the ambient magic into her next spell, and lighting crackles between her targets. The closest one to her moves to jab her with his sword, but he is frozen completely in the next second. Solas readies himself at her side, and casts another barrier on the party as they round to the next wave.

The mages do not listen to Solas as he tries to calm them, and they have no choice but to continue to defend. Caela grows frustrated with the remaining mage, who flits around the field with the flapping of book pages. Lighting strikes from her body without her even directing it, and the mage falls to the ground. 

The Templars who attack from behind them are dealt with quickly, especially when Varric gets a perfectly aimed shot on the one with the large tower shield.

“That’s the end of it,” Cassandra announces as she sheathes her weapon. Caela passes her an elfroot potion from her bag, which Cassandra takes with a smile.

Two soldiers have hung an Inquisition banner in the center of the Crossroad, and salute her as she passes. Caela nods her head at them, and climbs the stairs to Mother Giselle. 

The man on the ground is stubborn, even with the Mother’s words and facts. He eventually gives up, but Caela believes this is more from exhaustion than words.

“Mother Giselle?” Caela calls to her.

The woman stands and turns to face her. Her face is sullen and tired.

“I am. And you must be the one they are calling the Herald of Andraste.” 

“I’m told you asked for me.” Caela responds simply. _We don’t have time to unpack all of_ that. 

Giselle guides them a ways away, and shares her thoughts. Many in the Chantry are afraid, or grabbing for power. 

“Give them something else to believe.” Mother Giselle breathes, her voice holding no doubt.

“Would that even work?” Caela says incredulously.

“Because you are a mage? Or because you are not human?”

“Probably both?”

Mother Giselle laughs softly, and advises her to disrupt their unified voice. Instill doubt among them. 

Caela nods her head. “I guess all I can do is try.”

“And we can ask no more than that,” Mother Giselle says. She mentions that the Inquisition could be the hope that people need right now, and amends her statement by letting her know that she will be going to Haven to help Leliana. 

Mother Giselle walks away, and Caela takes a moment to puzzle her thoughts together. _I don’t really have any plan on how to approach the Chantry._

The thoughts are pushed from her mind when she rejoins her companions. Some Inquisition soldiers have passed on the loot from the bodies felled during the fight, and Caela splits the gold with them, and instructs them to help the refugees if they can. 

Cassandra points her in the direction of Corporal Vale, and Caela leads them up the path to the encampment. There are troops doing drills nearby, but most of the men look run down. The Corporal details the situation for her, and Caela jots down some leads in her journal.

Her next step is to talk to a Recruit Whittle. He asks her to find the cache’s hidden over the Hinterlands, so that the refugees could use the supplies. A hunter just across the way needs food to feed these people, and mentions the ram population just outside of the settlement. 

Caela is just about to follow up on these requests when a man’s panicked voice reaches her ears. She spins around to find an elven man, out of breath from running to her. She promises to find his son for potion, and sets out to the south of the Crossroads.

 _We should be able to get this all done before night comes._ She muses, and follows the trail leading up into the hills. 

There are some rebel mages fighting Inquisition scouts just beyond their camp, and their combined forces ends the battle with no resistance. The looted bodies indicate that there is a camp of these mages nearby, and it adds another thing to the list of things Caela has to follow up on. 

What really draws her attention is the odd contraption on the rocky ledge in front of her. A book on the table nearby details these things as Astariums, and Caela has never been more intrigued. It is extremely fun to identify the constellation inside the scope, but the great blast of light from the machine causes Caela to jump a foot off the ground. Varric guffaws next to her, and Caela can feel her face burning. 

“Where do you think that goes?” She tries to change the subject.

“It would be worth investigating.” Solas murmurs next to her. 

The party spends the rest of the evening gathering ram meat, finding hidden caches, and returning a ring to a widow. The cult in the hills is now safe from the rift in their settlement, and Caela delivered the potion to the man and his ill wife.

There are so many herbs growing here, and Caela grabs as many as she sees, and as many as her pack will hold. She can feel her head spinning as the amount of things they have to do increases, but she can’t leave until everything is stable. _These people need help, and I’m here. If I can help, I will._ She remembers saying the same thing to Cassandra, and the warmth in her heart pushes her on.

They make camp in a little clearing, shielded by a cliff to one side, and some ruins to the other. The sun is just about setting, and Caela sits next to the fire just outside of the tents. The troops who had come to occupy the camp had brought some rations with them, and Caela used some of the vegetables and leftover ram meat to make a basic stew. It wasn’t the best thing she had ever made, but it included what they had on hand, and didn’t taste half bad, if she said so herself. 

She happily ladled out some for everyone, even the soldiers, and sat down with her own bowl. Cassandra sat next to her, with Solas and Varric across from them. 

“It seems you are used to this sort of situation.” Solas mentions while he stirs his own bowl.

“Yeah, what did you do before all of this?” Varric adds on.

Caela paused in her motion to take a bite of her own meal. “I’ve been travelling with my Clan for as long as I can remember. We spent some time in human settlements too, but the majority of the time was spent in the wilderness.” She finishes her statement, scooping up a prime bit of meat onto her spoon and eating it.

“It must have been hard moving so much throughout your childhood,” Cassandra says comfortingly. “Did you enjoy it?”

Caela mulled over her thoughts while she chewed. 

“It wasn’t all bad,” she says after she swallowed. “My Clan always looked out for me, and we took care of each other. But, sometimes I think it would have been nice to live in one spot. Ah! My little brother lives in a house!” She tacks on as an afterthought.

“You do not live with him?” Solas asks.

“No, my father remarried a human woman after my mother passed. They live in Markham, and last I heard, are doing well on their farm.” 

Caela gathers their dishes now that they are all finished, and sits back down by the fire after she is done putting them onto a table nearby. “I was born while my father and mother were still with our Clan. Then a lot of stuff happened, I found out I had magic, and Keeper Istimaethoriel took care of me from that point on.” She finishes lamely. _Not the best story to tell,_ she sighs.

The conversation is steered in another direction with the help of Varric, and Caela delights in another one of Solas’s stories. The night finishes naturally, and they retire to their tents after saying goodnight.

Caela is sharing a tent with Cassandra, and she is excited to talk with her too. Caela removes her armor and slips into the bedroll laid out on the ground, and Cassandra takes the other. 

She finds out that Cassandra also has a brother, and that she is from Nevarra. Her descriptions of the necropolis are incredibly interesting, and Caela listens with rapt attention. The discussion about the family line, and so many cousins, once, twice, thrice removed; is mind boggling. After a bit of hesitation, Cassandra eventually mentions her own brother. Caela listens sympathetically to her story, but is unsure of how to comfort her.

"I may not ever truly understand the depth of your loss, but I am here for you." Caela mutters from the blanket she is folded in. 

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Is Cassandra's near silent reply. They make small talk until Caela is too tired to keep up, and they say goodnight to each other. 

Hardly able to keep her eyes open anymore, Caela curls up on her bedroll, and drifts off almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna detail every quest I did, but I was like okay gotta draw the line somewhere haha


	8. Hinterlands too Big

The feeling she was immersed in was almost like floating. Caela could feel wind whipping her flyaway hairs onto her forehead, and the rustling of pine leaves towering above her. She opened her eyes to see herself surrounded by a great many trees, and certainly not the tent she had fallen asleep in.

 _The Fade,_ she filled in, _but how did I slip into here so easily?_

The serenity of the situation was interrupted by what sounded like branches snapping, and great trunks falling. Getting closer. Caela’s breath caught in her throat at the rush of stimulus, and her heart began to beat in tandem with the newly awakened ache in her hand. She drew her palm to her eyes, and could see the magic of the mark pouring out of her hand, pooling around her, as the crashing wood began to come closer. The blood beating in her ears grew louder as her pain grew sharper. 

And she gasps awake. Caela immediately clings to her wrist, trying to stop the radiating pain shooting upwards. Her head is clouded with the memory of her dream, mixing sickly with the throb of irritation in her hand. 

Her sudden rise from the bedroll has woken Cassandra as well, and she pauses in her reach to her weapon.

“Are you alright?” She says with concern, and Caela nods as the pain steadily tapers off. Caela hisses in a breath when the moment passes, and finally relaxes.

She turns to Cassandra then. “Sorry for waking you.” She mutters sheepishly. Cassandra waves her off and rises from her sleeping area, and starts to get ready. Caela follows suit, wiping the sleep from her eyes with the wetted cloth Cassandra passes her. 

She pulls her armor on now, and readies her satchel over her shoulders again. She follows Cassandra as she exits the tent, and they clean themselves up with some water a soldier brought them. Caela is also grateful for the soap and the herby paste to cleanse their teeth.

She notices that the sky is just barely starting to take on light, and Caela knows they have a long day ahead. 

Feeling more refreshed than ever, Caela set about rounding up some breakfast. An excited scout pointed out some fruit trees in the vicinity, and lent her aid in gathering them. 

By the time Caela returns to camp, Solas and Varric have already joined Cassandra by the fire. Caela wastes no time in assuming her spot next to Cassandra, and the party discusses their plan for the day.

They set out toward the settlement in the hills, and Caela recruits a few people for the Inquisition. The situation with Ritts was quite interesting, and Varric was great at convincing her to put her unique skills to use.

However, the rift just before the pass is incredibly troublesome. Her attacks have no effect on the Rage demons that keep bursting through the rift, and if it wasn’t for Solas protecting them all with his barrier, she is sure they would all be crisped by now. Caela and Varric eventually eliminate the last of the Wraiths in the background, and provide better cover for Cassandra to focus on the Pride demon. 

Once all the enemies have returned to the Fade, Caela lifted her hand to it, and half expected more pain to rip through her. But her mark simply hummed, leeching on the strength of the rift until it erased itself from existence, the tear gone without a trace.

Her relief must have been visible on her face, seeing as Solas glances at her with raised eyebrows. She smiles minutely and presses on.

Caela’s favorite part of this journey was discovering all of the old landmarks dotted across the landscape. All of the stories attached to these places were so enthralling, and she couldn’t wait to finish the tale.

They made quick work of the next rift, and the cave next to it. Caela helped Varric destroy the large red lyrium shard creeping through the stone in the back of the cave. 

The rest of the day feels like they spend every waking moment just jogging through the hills. The camp established to the east of the Crossroads seemed to have an amazing area for defence, until one travels through a tunnel and finds themselves faced with a swathe of land that belongs to a dragon. 

Caela took one look at the beast as it broke into flight, and swiftly turned around, back into the tunnel. 

“We will deal with _that_ later.” She announces. 

“Assuming we _can,_ that is.” Varric points out. Caela laughs half-heartedly.

There is another cave just across from their camp. The Dalish woman found there makes Caela happy at first, but her shifty behavior quickly makes Caela suspicious. The demons that cling to the ruins in this place are dealt with, and the curious artifact activated. Solas fills her in on its purpose, and she reminds herself to look into it more later. The rest of the loot is divied up, and Caela catalogs the veilfire rune that had glinted on the wall.

When Mihris finds something of interest in that cavern, Caela can tell she doesn’t want to give it up. 

“Solas?” Caela turns to him for help. The hint of surprise on his face is quick to disappear, and the smooth lilt to his elvish is incredibly pleasant. Caela struggles to grasp some of what he said, but in the end, the woman gives him the amulet. Caela exits with her companions, and Solas seems pleased with the amulet they have gained.

The day spirals into a near monotonous rhythm; setting camps, eliminating the mage and Templar resistance bases, and eventually making it to Dennet’s area of farmland. 

The man states his terms, and Caela writes them all dutifully in her journal. But the sun is beginning to set now, and apart from the snacks they had shared on the road, the party hadn’t had a decent meal all day.

Luckily, they were able to set up another camp just past one of the fields. The abandoned farmhouses in the area had a surplus of abandoned goods, and Caela was excited to find a variety of vegetables they could use. She returns to the fire, and simply roasts the vegetables. 

“I wish we had some butter.” Caela frowns. Salt could only go so far, after all.

“You and me both, kid.” Varric grumbles from the other side of camp.

Cassandra smiles at her, “I find this simple meal far better than any Orlesian spread. Though the flaky pastry they serve is.. Acceptable.” She adds on. Caela laughs at the admission. 

After cleaning up, Varric retires to his tent first, mumbling about an idea he had for his manuscript. Caela volunteers for the first watch after seeing Cassandra yawn, citing that it will only be a few hours before some Inquisition soldiers come to occupy the camp.

Caela sits at the edge of camp, mindful of the small pools of water next to them. The night is dark and silent, apart from Varric’s scribbling.

She is startled though, when Solas takes a seat next to her. 

“Can’t sleep?” Caela tries to helpfully supply.

Solas laughs softly under his breath as he shakes his head. “Your mark, has it been bothering you? You seemed to be anxious with the earlier rift.”

“I figured you noticed,” Caela brings her palm up now, and clenches her fingers a few times as she studies the Fade spliced portion of her skin. “It started hurting this morning, enough so that it woke me up. But it didn't react when I sealed the rift.”

Solas nodded his head at her words. He raises his own hand now, and gestures to her palm. 

“May I?” He asks.

Caela places her hand in his, and is immediately greeted by the feel of his magic probing at her skin. The touch is slightly cold, but not unwelcome. Her mark thrums up to her fingertips, but the sensation is muted and soft. 

As his magic continues to wash over her, Caela finds herself relaxing into it. There is a soreness in her arm that she wasn’t aware of, one that is now making itself known as her muscles lose their tension. _I must have been clenching my fist all day._

“Are you alright?” Solas is looking at her face, his gaze boring into her, searching. Caela returns his look with a puzzled one of her own.

“Whatever you're doing, it's amazing. It feels like the mark is barely there anymore.” She chuckles.

Solas slowly removes his hands, and seems satisfied. 

“If it begins to ache again, do not hesitate to come to me. While it is stable, we do not know when that could change.” 

“Thank you Solas. I know you did this for me as I slept in Haven, and I want you to know that I am grateful.” Caela smiles at him now, but Solas again has an unreadable expression on his face. He bids her a goodnight as he joins Varric in their tent, and Caela continues her watch.

The stars here are a little different from the ones that guided her Clan in the Free Marches, a little more spread out. Caela takes comfort in the ones that she can see. 

Hours pass this way, with little more than the croaking of a frog in the water next to her. The Inquisition soldiers arrive near silently, and Caela nods at them before crawling into her own tent.

Cassandra is splayed out on her bedroll, taking up nearly half the tent, and Caela struggles to hold in her giggles as she steps over the accompanying mess of limbs.

Free of her armor now, Caela can feel sleep tugging at her eyelids. Swathed in her blanket, warmed by the presence of someone she respected, _I hope one day we can be friends,_ Caela nods off into sleep without any hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay listen I was gonna write out every mission but I had to hit the snooze button that was so boring. This chapter took forever cause I deleted the first draft because it sucked lol. I think I'll have to summarize most of it, and maybe add a scene for when everyone gets closer


	9. Side Benefits

The dream she finds herself in on this night is one of familiarity. Her Clan had made camp next to a waterfall, bordered in on either side with an arching cliffside. 

She could see the aravels lined along the riverbank, the Halla let out to graze. It plays out like the memory it is now, and Caela can see her younger self curled up next to her Keeper, reading a book together. 

Caela smiles at the sight. After her father had left her with the Clan, the Keeper was her only close confidant. She revels in the warmth that lights in her now, but the feeling is interrupted by a flash behind her. 

Caela turns as the Fade realigns with the new scene, the new emotions. Above her, but so, so far away, lay the Breach. The rough turmoil it was once in, now calmed, but for only so long. 

She wakes gently at this feeling. Knowing what responsibility lay ahead of her.

The day is rushed from the get-go, and the party kills the demon controlling the wolf pack with relative ease. Marking the land for watch towers was also completed, but the job wouldn’t be done until she headed back to Haven to put their forces into motion. 

The party spent the last few hours ridding the forest villa of its forces, and inspecting the skull just outside of its walls. These Shards are definitely something to look into, and Caela jots down her leads in her journal.

“Alright, lets head back to Haven for now. I need Cullen to help me out with the watchtowers, and then when we come back to finish things off with Dennet, we can complete the rest of these.” Caela shakes her journal in the air a bit at this, before returning it to her side. 

They make the final trek to the original camp they arrived in, and collect their horses from there. It is just about midday, and they might be able to arrive at Haven just before sundown. 

The journey back is like the one from before, but Caela now spends her time riding closer to Solas. He shares a great many elvhen phrases with her, and Caela is overjoyed. _My Clan really knew so little._

She begins keeping a separate part in her notebook dedicated to just this. Time passes quickly this way, especially when she teaches Varric some choice swear words that even she knew.

Haven was alight with the last bit of sunlight left in the day when they arrived. The houses and pathways just barely illuminated, and the people milling about. Caela sighs in relief at the sight, and waves to Solas and Varric as they leave to rest. 

Caela leads the way up to the Chantry, only to become alarmed at the raised voices just up ahead. Cassandra is hot on her heels as they walk into the scene before them.

On either side of the Chantry stood two irate groups, snapping and bickering at each other. Mages and Templars, blaming the other for the death of the Divine.

Before either Caela or Cassandra could speak up, Cullen bursts from the Chantry’s doors, his face stirring with annoyance.

He reminds them then, his voice assured and thundering into the air, that they are all part of the Inquisition now. The crowd cools at this point, but frustrated whispers cut through the masses. 

“And what does that mean, exactly?” The nasally tone immediately soured Caela’s mood, and she could hear Cassandra groan next to her. 

Cullen scoffs. “Back already, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?” He gestures to Roderick with these words.

Cullen barks out his order then, once the Chancellor is done grandstanding. The throng of people dissipates as they all begin to wander away, and Caela walks up to Cullen. 

“Mages and Templars were already at war, even before the Divine’s death. Now, they’re blaming each other.” He fills in for her.

Rodericks haughty reply is quickly shut down. Cullen continues to taunt the man, arms crossed all the while. Caela internally cheers him on.

“We’re restoring order, where no one else will. I don’t see the problem with that.” Caela says cooly. 

The Chancellor flushes red at this. “What would _you_ know of order?” He sneers, and Caela narrows her eyes as the fury wells inside of her chest. Cassandra blatantly laughs at the taunt. 

“Well, let’s hope we find a solution in Val Royeaux, and not a cathedral full of Chancellors.” Caela hisses.

“The stuff of nightmares.” Cullen amends.

Cassandra leads her into the Chantry then, and Cullen joins them at the war table after a moment passes. 

Caela points out locations on the map where she needs watchtowers to be built, for the sake of gaining Dennet’s horses. Cullen advises her on the matter, and guarantees that they will be built as soon as possible. 

“In the meantime, you should head to Val Royeaux, and make contact with the Chantry there.” Leliana mentions.

“By the time you return, the towers should be complete.” Cullen adds on.

Caela nods her head, and accepts the letter that Josephine now hands her. 

The rush of calm washes over her. _A letter from my Keeper!_

But the calm is replaced with dread as Caela continues to read. 

“Leliana,” she begins, “I might need you to look into something for me.” Caela shares the contents of the letter, but, telling from Leliana’s composure, Caela assumes that all letters she receives are going to be read well before they reach her own hands.

“Of course, Herald.”

Caela assigns Josephine a mission in the meantime, one that Varric had personally requested of her.

By the time she exits the Chantry, the sun has just barely set. Snow falls silently to the ground, and the light flurry makes Caela smile.

She checks in on Solas first. He too, is observing the snow as it falls, as the Breach flickers in the background. Caela greets him as he notices her, and they easily devolve into discussions about the Fade. He details some of the things he had encountered, and how, if one remains planted in one place, that they run out of new areas in the Fade.

“So all this moving around you do with the Inquisition, it helps you find more to explore?” Caela sums up.

“Precisely. And, if this world were to be destroyed, I would not be able to find a place to lay my head and visit the Fade.” 

Caela laughs, “So it all works out!” 

“It is enjoyable, experiencing more of life to find more of the Fade.” 

“How so?” Caela asks excitedly.

You train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit.” Solas says simply. “You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike because it leads you to a destination you enjoy. As have I.”

Caela smiles at the admission, and a devilish idea pops in her head. _Solas had set his sentence up so perfectly for it after all._

“You like my side benefits?” She smirks, wondering how Solas would react. She deliberately smoothed out her voice, making the sentence a little more daring.

Solas does not back down, however. Caela notices the corners of his mouth quirk up, as he speaks.

‘Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine the sight would be… fascinating.” His own voice drops an octave, and Caela shivers at his tone.

She can only hum out a laugh as her face begins to burn. The heat travels all the way down to her chest, up to her ears, and she knows she must look like some horrid fruit at this point. 

“It’s getting late!” She nearly stutters out the change of subject, _Gods, why did I try to act all confident?_ “Goodnight Solas, I’ll see you tomorrow!” She finishes with a false cheeriness, embarrassment still flushing her face.

Solas has the audacity to look _amused,_ and he smiles at her. He bids her goodnight, and Caela nearly trips down the stairs leading to the front gates. 

She keeps her pace brisk as she sets off, and the guards nod their hellos as they open the doors for her. 

The view of the frozen lake is breathtaking, especially with a hint of moonlight streaming across it. Caela leans on one of the stone poles, and simply takes in the view. But even as she tries to relax, the previous encounter with Solas keeps popping into her mind. _Why is he so smooth? I didn't think he'd run with that so easily._

The door opens behind her, and she turns her head in surprise to see Cassandra emerge from it.

“Cassandra,” she smiles, “Come to enjoy the moonlight?” 

Cassandra laughs. “I did not. I was simply checking up on you.” 

“Making sure I won’t run away?” Caela teases. 

“I would not blame you if you wished to. Only know I would drag you back.”

Caela can't help but giggle. It was easy, being like this. Cassandra was a woman who did not shy away from her emotions and words; instead, she openly expressed them.

“Have you been to Val Royeaux, Cassandra?” She asks then. 

“Many times. The sight is quite glorious, but the people are less so. So many frivolities and words with hidden meanings.” Cassandra waves her hand in dismissal. The wind blows a gust toward them now, and Caela straightens from the post she has leaned on. Cassandra tilts her head toward Haven, and they walk toward Caela’s cabin, chattering softly all the while. 

“Solas and Varric have already been informed of the journey we will be making. It will take about three days to even reach its port.” Cassandra mentions as they stop at Caela’s door. 

“Thank you Cassandra.” Caela smiles once more. “Make sure you get some rest okay?” 

“Goodnight, Caela.” Cassandra nods her goodbye, and Caela can’t resist grinning as she walks into her little house. _That’s the first time she's said my name._

Caela lights her desk candle yet again, and starts to get ready for bed. She quickly removes her armor, taking great care to clean it, and ensure that it is free of holes. Her boots are dirty, and she spends time removing all of the gunk from its soles. 

After her equipment is clean, and the one rip in her bag patched, Caela takes a moment to cleanse herself similarly. 

After washing off with water that was a touch too hot, Caela changed into the warm pajamas left on her bed, the items smelling clean and fresh. She clambered onto her bed, and sat directly in the middle of it.

Going through the motions that her Keeper had taught her, Caela realigns herself and her mind. She focuses on centering herself, removing any ambient magic that might be weighing her down, concentrating on the push and pull of her own energy.

The mark on her hand buzzes to life, alight with its own ambiance. Every attempt to converge with it is met with resistance, like a river running into a boulder in its path. Her magic splits evenly around it every time she tries to interact with its presence. 

It feels like the Fade weariness she experiences each time she wakes from a dream. Like it's too heavy for her hand. Its power is mysterious, whatever fuels it is still unknown. 

_Nothing I can do about it now._ Caela worries. _At least I can still use magic._

She finishes her exercises then, and lays onto her bed. The sheets smell softly of elfroot, and the blanket from before had been replaced with one full of feathers and down. 

She snuffs the candle with nary a thought, _I should really put it out while I’m still standing,_ and curls up in her blankets. 

She wills all of her embarrassing moments away, even as they resurface nearly a dozen times, and slips into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally had a day off today! Typed up as much as I could, the chapter came easier during the last half of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make this chapter longer but I ran out of time! Chapter 2 will be the next scene after this, maybe a little more.


End file.
